by Lora Leigh
“Do something.” Her head thrashed on the bed.
She was burning, burning inside and out. And he was as well. Her eyes opened to see the sweat as it ran in one small rivulet down the side of his face. His eyes were so dark, thunderous. His expression heavy with lust.
“Demanding,” he groaned. “Keep giving me orders like that, Janey, and I’m going to come before I get inside you.”
“Fuck me, Alex.” She stared back at him, lips parted, her breathing harsh. Heavy. “If you’re scared, baby, then lie back. I’ll ride you.”
Oh God, she hadn’t actually said that, had she? Teased him when she was dying for him.
He froze, his face tightening, cheekbones standing out in stark release as primal, primitive lust filled his expression. His cheeks darkened, his lips looked heavier.
“Hell yeah.” He suddenly grinned, and in that grin was teasing, wicked hunger.
She tried to hold him to her as he pulled away. Her hands slapped the bed as he eased from it.
“What?” she demanded roughly. “Where the hell are you going?” She came to her knees, struggling to find the breath to speak, to figure out why he had pulled away from her.
“Latex, sweetheart. I bet my left nut you’re not on protection, are you?”
Janey stilled, her heart suddenly beating rough and hard as he reached down for his pants and pulled a foil pack free.
She lifted her hand, then dropped it, watching him, heart racing; the need to do it for him was killing her. She wanted to sheathe him. She wanted to touch him.
“You can, you know,” he said, his tone still teasing, but growing rougher.
Her gaze jerked to his as he held the small square pack out to her. “Get me ready for you, darlin’. Show me how much you want me.”
She felt her hands shake, excitement and fear pulsing through her. She had never done anything like this, had no idea what to do, how to touch him.
She reached out and took the small square of foil, then opened it carefully, until the latex disc was held gently between her fingers.
“Just roll it over my cock, baby.”
She moved closer, holding her lower lip between her teeth as she watched his fingers curl around the heavy shaft.
And stroke.
It was so sexy. She could barely breathe. Excitement was racing through her now, her juices weeping from her pussy. She wanted him inside her. She wanted all of him.
She pressed the rolled condom against the head of his cock and unrolled it down his shaft carefully, watching as his fingers lowered, gripped his balls, and a groan filled the room.
His other hand tucked around her neck and lifted her face for his kiss. His lips were hard, hungry. They devoured as she held on to him, her tongue meeting his, dueling with it as she lifted against him.
“Christ, you make a man crazy.”
He gripped her hips, lifting her against him as he moved to the bed again, propping himself back, arranging her legs to straddle his hard, muscular thighs.
Janey stared back at him in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Take me.” He smiled back at her, the curve of his lips tight, his gaze so dark, stormy. As though some hard, dark core was being restrained, pulled back.
She could sense it, but she didn’t feel it. His hands were gentle, firm, and as he pulled her hips lower, she felt the broad head of his cock pushing against the entrance to her pussy.
“I want inside you so bad I’m about to explode just thinking about it.” His hands clenched on her hips, then slid to the curve of her ass. “Take me, Janey. Go wild on me, baby. Let me see all that fire you’re hiding inside you.”
Janey shook her head. She knew what he wanted. He wanted all of her. She could feel it. If she gave it all to him, then how would she survive when he walked away? Alex always walked away, she knew that. No woman had ever held him more than a few weeks. No woman ever would. Especially not a traitor’s daughter.
“I’m not taking you, Janey.” His lips moved over her jaw, touched her lips. “If you want it, baby, you have to take it. Slow and easy, or hot and wild … Fuck.”
She couldn’t stay still.
Janey pressed down. She moaned as she felt the broad head part her, enter. She lowered her head, pressed her forehead against his shoulder, and pressed down more.
She was going to pass out. The blood pounded through her head. Pleasure was like a cascade of white-hot sparks, brilliant, electric, racing through her body.
He stretched her until she swore she couldn’t take more. She followed his guiding hands at her hips, rocked against him, felt more slip inside her, and she was dying for even more.
“Alex.” She moaned his name.
“Janey, baby.” He was tense, his muscles rippling with restrained power beneath her. “Fuck me, sweetheart. Take what you want.”
She wanted. Oh God, she wanted so bad.
She rolled her head against his shoulder, her hips flexing, moving jerkily, pushing down, feeling the stretch and burn.
“Help me,” she cried out.
If he would just do it, then she could hold a part of herself back. She was certain of it. Just enough of her heart to survive.
“Give me your wild, Janey,” he urged, his voice tight now, hoarse. “Give it all to me, baby.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t stop.
A whimper tore from her throat as she moved on him again, lifting and lowering, working him inside her. There was no pain, just that burning, stretching pleasure.
“Help me!” she cried.
“Fuck me, damn you! Take me, Janey!” The hard command in his voice ripped through her. It tore aside hesitation. It slashed through her brain, filled her with defiance, with challenge.
Her head jerked up, her eyes opened. And oh God, she should have kept them closed. His face was dark. Forbidding. His touch was light. There was nothing heavy, nothing forceful. But his face. The sight of all that lust, the heavy, brutal sensuality flickering in his eyes, tore through her.
“All of you?” She moved against him, her nails digging into his shoulders. “You want me to take all of you?”
“All the way to my fucking balls.” His muscles were tight with restraint. His hands fell away from her, lifting to the back of the headboard. His fingers were pale with the force of the grip he had on the bed. His biceps flexed, rippled.
She wanted to bite him again.
“All the way to your balls, Alex?” She braced her hands against his chest, lifted, and slid back down. Slowly. So slowly.
His expression twisted. His head fell back against the bed.
“Fuck. I’m going to come so hard you’ll feel it, Janey. You’ll feel me pumping into that damned condom.”
She pushed down farther, staring back at him, shaking, shuddering. It was so good. So fucking good.
“How bad will it hurt?” She whimpered. “I want all of you now, Alex. Tell me. How bad will it hurt?”
He drew in a hard, deep breath. “I took care of it, Janey. With my fingers, baby. No pain. No fucking pain. I can’t hurt you, sweetheart. Not like this.”
Her heart was breaking in her chest. She could see the need inside him, desperate, so male, dominant and powerful. And restrained. Holding back, so he wouldn’t hurt her.
In that moment, she knew he already had all of her, no matter the consequences, and it didn’t matter that she couldn’t have him in public, that he couldn’t claim her. Because of this.
She lifted, let her head fall back, and let all her weight go into the next downward stroke she made.
She heard herself wail. Felt the agonizing, burning ecstasy that filled her as she took him. All of him. All the way to his balls as he shouted her name.
His hands jerked from the bed to her ass. Gripping it, lifting her.
“Janey. Fuck. Baby.”
“Let me go.” Her nails dug into his wrists.
It had her now. That hunger. That need. She was powerful. She was invincible. She held the mos
t incredible strength she had ever known, deep inside her, for only a second.
And he was holding her back.
Her head lifted. “Let me go.”
“Not so hard,” he gritted out. “Fuck. You’re too little to take me like this, Janey.”
She leaned forward, nipped his lower lip, stared back at him. She’d read things. She knew some things. She let her muscles clench around the heavy crown still embedded in her.
“Don’t take my choice,” she whispered. “You said I could take you. I need you, Alex. All of you. Just like that.”
Sweat dripped down his face now, dampened his chest.
“Your hands go on the headboard.” She pulled them free, pressed them back.
She was shaking. From the inside out, trembling, clenching on him.
“You’re spanked,” he panted. “So fucking spanked.”
Her pussy flooded around him.
“Maybe I want spanked.”
She lowered herself and it began again. Lightning. A blaze of fire. The stretching fullness that didn’t stop, wouldn’t ease. It burned with pleasure. Ached with ecstasy.
She couldn’t stop moving. She rode him hard and fast, feeling the pleasure building inside her. Taking her, overtaking her.
“God yes, fuck me, baby.” He was straining beneath her now, his hips lifting with her, pushing his cock deeper, harder, inside her. “So sweet. So damned tight. So damned tight you’re killing me.”
She couldn’t breathe. She could feel the sensations slamming through her now. She was dizzy, dazed. Her head lowered to his shoulder and she lost all control. She bit him and sucked at his skin, slamming her pussy onto the thick, throbbing cock penetrating her, fucking inside her until she screamed.
Her orgasm was alive within her. It raged through her, arching her back. It raced through her, pulling her muscles tight, clamping her pussy around him as she felt the hard, heated pulse of him inside her.
She was shuddering, writhing, twisting against him and dying from the pleasure. And he was right. She could feel him coming. Hot spurt after spurt as though it were filling her, heating her, sinking inside her and exploding through her womb.
It was brutal, it was terrifying and exhilarating. She wanted it again. Again and again. She didn’t want to live without him inside her. She didn’t want to exist without his kiss, without his hunger.
And when his head lowered, his lips covering hers, his tongue pushing hard inside her mouth as he growled her name, she knew she wanted all of him as well.
It wasn’t pleasure. It went beyond pleasure, beyond ecstasy. For a moment, just a moment, she felt as though she belonged to him.
ELEVEN
Alex knew the moment it happened. The second he felt his sperm shooting from the slit of his cock, he felt the latex split. And he felt pure, undiluted rapture. The fiery heat, the wash of Janey’s release, his cum spilling inside her, spurting hot and deep into the rich, fist-tight grip she had on him.
He’d never had a condom break. He’d always been on guard for it, until Janey.
He couldn’t pull back, couldn’t jerk out. All he could do was slam his lips over hers, holding her to him and trying to push deeper inside her. She took him to the hilt. He could feel the ultra-tight depths of her from the tip of his cock to the base; there was no place left to fill her. But he tried. Tried to get deeper, to fill her to her womb as his seed shot from his dick.
It was the most exquisite pleasure a man could know. More pleasure than Alex had ever imagined knowing, and he knew, when it came to sex, he had a damned good imagination. He was sure, sure to the depths of his soul that he had known every lust-filled, wicked, sensual sensation to be found.
Until this. The crown of his dick bare, buried inside her, feeling each desperate ripple of her pussy, each pulse of his cum and hers. Feeling her. Inside and out. And feeling the soul-deep knowledge that there was no chance in hell of walking away from her now.
He held her in his arms now. He couldn’t let go of her. Couldn’t make himself let go of her. He was buried in her, the latex spread away from the head of his cock, and he swore he felt her heartbeat in her pussy. Rocking, rippling around him. He felt it clear to his soul.
He leaned his head over her. Trying to surround her. His sweet Janey. She loved it when he held her, stroked his hands over her, and she tried so hard not to. He had seen it in her eyes, felt it in her. That need to hold back, to not be dependent, to not need anything or anyone. And now she was going to be stuck with him.
At least until he knew whether or not she was carrying his baby.
She was still shaking in his arms. He couldn’t tell her yet. Her little nails were still digging into his biceps. For some reason, he thought, his arms turned her on. She was holding on to him there and she would get that little faraway look in her eyes, kneading the muscle. He knew it sure as hell turned him on. And when she had bit him …
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. Hell, he was hard as a rock again.
A little giggle passed Janey’s lips. Alex opened one eye and stared down at her as she pushed herself up against his chest.
“I felt that.” There was the slightest satisfied curl to her lips.
“I’d be worried if you didn’t,” he told her, then sighed heavily. “Come on. You’re exhausted.”
He felt her yawn, felt her leaning against him again. Hell, it hadn’t been a good day for her. He’d tell her about the condom tomorrow morning. That was soon enough.
He slid from the bed as he lifted her from him. She burrowed under the blankets and snagged the pillow he had been leaning against before curling up and closing her eyes.
She wasn’t running to the shower or running to clean the scent or feel of their sex from her body.
Alex shook his head, unrolled the destroyed condom from his erection, and padded into the bathroom. He used the toilet, washed up, and dried before flipping off the light and moving back to the bedroom.
He turned off the little low light on the night table before reaching for the blankets.
“Turn the light back on,” she mumbled from beneath the blankets. “I don’t like being alone in the dark.”
He slid into the bed and pulled her into his arms, her back against his chest. “You’re not alone.”
She froze, as though she hadn’t expected him to stay. Alex wrapped himself around her. Her head pillowed on his arm, his larger body framing hers. His erection pressed against the cleft of her rear.
A few seconds later she relaxed against him, though, and burrowed closer. He knew the moment she went to sleep. The wariness left her, slowly. Her breathing deepened, and Alex was left to stare into the dark, his arms around her, wondering what the hell he was going to do. Because holding her as she slept felt as natural as breathing.
Hell, he’d fucked up here. He should have gotten her on birth control before he let things go this far. He should have thought to ask her before tonight if she was on birth control. But he’d known. A part of him had already known she wasn’t protected. And he was damned if he could find a moment’s regret inside him.
He hadn’t wanted to be tied to any woman, but he was also a man who well understood fate and destiny. Sometimes shit just happened, but it happened for a reason.
He brushed her hair back from her forehead, his lips pressing against her hair as he closed his eyes against whatever the hell it was raging inside him.
He’d never imagined he would be a father. A husband. He’d sworn it would never happen. There were too many things in the world that a man couldn’t control. Acts of God a man didn’t have a chance of avoiding.
He let his hand slide over her hip, his palm flattening on her stomach. She hadn’t even washed. Maybe he should have told her. There were ways of attempting to stop a pregnancy. He could have had her try it. So why hadn’t he?
Because he knew fate when it kicked his ass. In his entire sexual lifetime, he’d never had a condom break. Not once. But it had with Jane
y. With this one tiny, fiery woman-child, all his ideas about his future had been shot to hell.
He didn’t have a choice. He’d have to marry her. He’d take the six months’ active reserve duty and resign from the Special Forces. He’d had enough of blood and death anyway. He’d had a bellyful of it. He’d take care of Janey, and their child.
He was a damned good father. Hell, he’d raised Crista. She’d survived, even turned out to be a hell of a woman. He could do it again with his own. He was a man now, not a kid himself.
And he was rationalizing something that had a slow, steady burn building inside him. He wanted to jerk her closer, wanted to lean down and kiss her stomach, whisper to the life that could be growing there. He was going crazy and he hadn’t even hit middle age yet.
And Natches would kill him. He almost grinned at the thought of that. Natches Mackay. They’d called him the ice man once. Now he was like an active volcano ready to blow at any moment. His wife and Janey were his trip wires.
“Hmmm.” A little moan slipped from the woman he was holding as she moved against him again. Her ass wiggled against his cock and Alex ground his teeth together at the sweet pleasure that rocked through him.
He could have this, every night. Every day. Once they caught the bastard tormenting her, he’d show this county that Janey wasn’t to be messed with. She had paid for being Dayle Mackay’s daughter in ways that should have broken her years before. Should have turned her cold, heartless. Instead, the core of the girl she had once been had hidden behind an unemotional façade and cool green eyes. A façade that was slowly easing around him. Tonight, she’d gotten angry. Flushed cheeks, blazing eyes. Tomorrow, she’d likely scratch as deep as that damned cat of hers, once she realized he wasn’t letting her go.
Try to run off to California on him, would she? His smile was less than amused. Like hell. His woman. His hand pressed her closer, felt the smooth roundness of her stomach. And, maybe, his child as well. She wasn’t going anywhere without him.
“Again,” she mumbled, surprising him, rubbing her ass against his cock, her hand covering his.